


Assuming Control

by Nitrobot



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Breeding Kink, Dominance, F/M, gives me life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 11:48:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2620649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitrobot/pseuds/Nitrobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I might have accidentally given spadey a thing for breeding kink, which resulted in many a few late night discussions involving Predacons being kinky bastards with femmes. I can't honestly say I regret it.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Assuming Control

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spadey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spadey/gifts).



> I might have accidentally given spadey a thing for breeding kink, which resulted in many a few late night discussions involving Predacons being kinky bastards with femmes. I can't honestly say I regret it.

“Do you feel that, femme?” Predaking’s purrs were underlaid with harsh guttural growls echoing from the depths of his primal systems, vibrating all throughout Ripclaw’s body and making her whimper into the ground. “Do you feel my spike claiming you, pleasure coursing all throughout your body?” 

“Y-yes...” Ripclaw’s glossa lolled as another spasm of ecstasy went through her valve, squeezing it around the shaft of his giant leaking spike. Predaking smirked at how she whined when he pulled out to her valve rim, leaving her orgasming valve hollow and grasping for empty space. 

“That’s normal, dear. It’s just the sensation of your body bending to me, recognising me as its master.” He used two claws to pick up a drooling trail of lubricant from her inner thigh, rubbing them around his spike before shoving it back in to the sweet sound of her moans. 

“I’m certain it will be perfect for carrying my children... my heirs...” His hips started slamming hard against hers as he snarled into her audio, jolting her against the ground and forcing her still as she tried to squirm beneath him. “Will you do that for me, dear? Let me frag you full of my sparklings?”

“Anything you want, master, I’m... I’m all yours...” Ripclaw gave in completely as her fifth overload of the evening turned her submission to a squeal of delight. Predaking chuckled darkly as her helm rolled back and spinal strut arched hard against his chestplate, trying to fit as much of his spike inside her as possible. He thought it would have been impossible to find another of his kind like the femme squirming beneath him; so obedient and capable of continuing their great race. He was almost desperate enough to try bargaining for the blue Autobot femme before Ripclaw and her clan stumbled upon the last three survivors of the Predacons. He didn’t ask where she came from- he was too busy eyeing her interface panel and contemplating how many sparklings could fit in her chamber. In fact, he was surprised to find her valve seal completely intact, especially with the calibre of young mechs that trailed behind her. Surprised, but immensely pleased. 

“That’s right, pet. All mine...” Predaking closed claws around her neck and pushed his faceplate against hers, unleashing groans into her mouth as his cord unleashed transfluid into her valve. Most of it dripped onto the floor, joining the sticky puddle of lubricant beneath Ripclaw’s knees, so Predaking kept his hips close to hers to seal the remaining fluid inside and force it into her gestation chamber, pressing her aft against his codpiece with vice grip. Ripclaw struggled slightly against him, so he leaned down to whisper;

“Now you’re going to lie here on my spike until I’m certain you are carrying.” It was a very common act for Predacon mechs to perform after interface, staying inside the femme long after overload was over. Somewhere in his patchwork CNA he had memories of mechs even falling into recharge with their spikes still hard inside their mate’s valve. “I will frag you every hour of every day if I have to,” he promised, taking hold of her neck again. “Do you understand?” She nodded weakly in his grasp, gasping through a raw vocaliser when he finally released her. Predaking positioned her tail around his waist and her knees spread out on the floor, preparing both of them for a long night fused together. 

At least, that was what he was _hoping_ for.

“Predaking, sir?”

The giant mech snarled against Ripclaw’s neck as his nuzzles along the metal plates paused. “I’m busy, Darksteel.”

The smaller Predacon gulped and tapped his claws together, standing on the very edge of the doorway to his master’s quarters. “I can... see that, sir, but there’s been another incident between Lazerback and Skylynx. Something about ‘who can shove more energon rods past their beaks’. I think one of them is choking.”

Predaking growled a sigh as he reluctantly disengaged himself from Ripclaw, keeping his faceplate against her forehelm to soothe her sounds of disappointment as he pulled out from his valve. “Morons...” His codpiece snapped closed before he turned to march past Darksteel, eager to get the whole thing over with as quickly as possible- but knowing his soldiers, he knew that was a futile wish. 

Then again, the one in his doorway was the only useful one. And one of the first things Shockwave, his false sire, once taught him out of the test tube was that loyal lieutenants stayed loyal through appropriate rewards for their service. That was something Megatron failed to understand, especially where his inner circle was concerned, which ultimately lead to his downfall.  
Predaking was not Megatron. He was better, in every way.

“Darksteel... take care of my mate in my absence,” he commanded, turning slightly towards him to see the mech’s reaction. “Stay by her side, give her _anything_ she requests. If I find that you’ve failed to grant her something... there will be consequences.” Darksteel caught on quickly to what his master was implying, and his confused expression morphed into a sparkling’s impression of delight. 

“Y-Yes, sir!” Darksteel almost bolted through to where Ripclaw still lay, and from the low moans that echoed behind Predaking, he was assured that both officer and mate were content with each other. That would keep them busy while he restrained himself from murdering the two delinquents who tore him away from his broodmother.


End file.
